Roman Holiday
by Roxburry Black
Summary: Kansas visits Rome and runs into someone interesting. Meanwhile, Romano is wondering the young personification he meets.


I do not own Hetalia

#$#$#$

There are few sensations akin to discovering that you've gotten yourself completely lost and turned around in a city an entire ocean and continent away from home. It only worsens when you have no idea how to speak the language and can easily be identified as a tourist; a clueless American with no sense of direction and social anxiety.

Kansas Jones wasn't ready to panic yet but she was getting pretty close.

Asking to attend a meeting with her father hadn't been her idea. Delaware had begun pushing for more states to travel and to spend time with their father. Had it been left to Kansas she would have stayed home and watched the new Star Wars movie on the day of its release in the states. No luck, Delaware, all six feet and three inches of her, had tossed her bodily into the car with handcuffs.

So Kansas and America went to Rome.

Rome was a big city with gnarled twisting streets and small sidewalks. Hundreds of people pushed though the crowds as traffic roared along the ancient streets. So many voices and nationalities all shoved into one place made her stomach turn.

Kansas didn't do well with crowds. Pressed against a cobblestone wall within eye line of the Colosseum the younger state shivered.

Last time she had been in Italy it had been while charging up the beachheads of Sicily with a contingent of troops from Topeka.

Rome was a frightening city for so many different reasons. Least of which was that none of the streets made any sense. No one with any sense would make a city plan so inane.

"Excuse me signorina." Kansas felt her entire body seize in terror at the voice that couldn't be directed at anyone except her. "Signorina?"

"Um?" Her father was a speed dial away and she had a baton with her. Kansas turned her head and stared.

The man, stranger and Italian, was tall. He had a lean sort of handsomeness with bright amber eyes and astonishing auburn hair, his attractiveness somehow heightened by the faint frown that hung around his eyebrows.

"Signorina, are you lost?"

"Um?" Kansas squeaked and nodded before marshalling her senses, "Yes. I got lost trying to find my way to a place to go shopping or anywhere really."

"Oh," The man, his suit looking impeccably put together despite the heat, bowed his head and gave a flourish with a tan hand. "Perhaps I can help you."

"Um, I don't think so?" Kansas wilted further away from the man, "I don't know you and I do now that reputation of Italian men."

"Well," His smile wasn't twisted but honest and a little self-deprecating, "It's a well-deserved one but I assure you I don't want to flirt with someone as young as you."

"I don't feel safer." Kansas admitted and blushed at the intense stare, observing and studying her. "But."

"Then let me show you my favorite café around here and perhaps I can give you directions back to wherever you need to go."

#$#$#$

Southern Italy, also known as Romano Vargas, wondered what had possessed him to offer his afternoon to the American. It hadn't been because of her beauty. She was beautiful in the same manner that mountains and deserts were, honest and wholesome with no lies to show. Deeply tanned and with the obvious influence of Native American ancestry. It wasn't because anybody had been making her uncomfortable or even unwelcome. Rather, a tug of energy had distracted him from his walk to the meeting. Concentrated electricity that only buzzed though his system when other nations were around.

So who was this mousy American?

"Um," dark eyes flickered across the streets and the crowds. "What's your name?"

"Romano Vargas."

"Nice to meet you," She held out a hand, "I'm Kansas Jones."

Beneath his winning smile and calm shell Southern Italy imploded inward in two parts glee and three parts shock.

Well hell.

Once Romano thought about it with any sort of attention it began to make sense. America, the blond superpower with more money and military than sense. He had to have reflect a lot more than the hamburger munching aspect of his culture. Loud obnoxiousness turned to a whole different level that couldn't have been real for anyone. Long absences blamed on the bad economy, a slightly depressed slump in his shoulders and a weariness in his eyes that Romano could have missed if he weren't over a thousand years old. The things had never added up when it came to America, the passion when he spoke of individual states and sometimes when he spent the entire meeting texting an unknown number.

Details and ideas flashed together in one astonishing moments and he swallowed down the shock.

"Well, It's is a pleasure to meet you Miss Jones."

Try as hard as he might Romano could not disassociate the idiot in the meetings with the same one who must have raised the state in front of him. A state who seemed well mannered enough and calm in the face of the unknown.

"Thanks, you too Mr. Vargas."

##$#$

Mr. Vargas, "Please call me Romano," was pleasant company. Courteous and polite he pointed out artifacts, historical sites and beautiful landmarks she might have otherwise missed. He knew the history of Rome like no other. He answered her rapid questions with patience she hadn't seen in anyone except her father.

"So what about the actual gladiatorial fights?" Several hours had passed, Kansas had dropped to sit on a fountain with a weary sight, "Did you ever see those?"

"See them?" For a moment, uncertainty flashed through that amber gaze, "I'm a little too young."

"Well," She stretched out her feet, slurping from her water bottle, "You talk like you watched the city rise. You talked about the Renaissance as if you were there. Though I guess that's not really fair. I could tell you more than you wanted to ever know about Topeka and Google. I've got the best wi-fi in the country."

"Really?" Knowing the girl was easily over a hundred years old made him feel ancient, "Like what?"

"Well," Kansas shrugged, "A whole lot. I want to write a book about Kansas, the state, but I don't think anyone would ever want it."

"You never know," Romano said, "It's not a bad thing to have."

"Really? I've been wanting to write on for a while now because I know so much but none of my siblings think it's a good idea. Well, some of them. Indiana thinks it a great one but Texas thinks I'm joking."

"Oh?" Romano wondered if she had caught her slips or if she thought no one would think twice about children named after states. "I could write a book on Rome but that's already been done so often….maybe one on gardening."

"You garden!" Kansas turned away from the ridiculous tourist trap snow globe and beamed at him. Her smile reflected a few of America's quieter moments. A soft summer breeze with the hint of fresh grass, the refreshing expression on a fellow personification was welcome. "I garden too. Actually, I farm. I've got this great farm out from Topeka and it's a couple hundred acres in size and boy! You won't believe how many people get lost around that section of the state. They end up having to stay the night or sometimes they need a refill so I keep a lot of extra gas around because they get off the interstate to soon."

"You can get lost in Kansas?" Romano wondered blankly, ignoring the smiling shop owner. She watched them with a fond gaze while Kansas nearly bounced off the walls in her excitement.

"It's pretty easy!" The state bounced to another row of baubles, "A lot of people get the number mixed on the signs and there isn't a gas station around for miles."

"Oh." Italy regarded driving along the American interstate as a living nightmare. "Right."

"But I like the isolation because it really gives me time to think. I don't like having so many people around me like I do when I go to my dad's estate."

"Your father has an estate?" When he'd visited America's house it had been a two story house with a white picket fence in the middle of the suburbs. There hadn't been a lot of personality to it but if Kansas said American an estate…well then.

"Yeah, it's old and we keep adding new things to it. Some of my siblings like to stay there year round but I can't handle all of the noise. Others like to pop in for the holidays or whenever."

"I have a brother but he and I live in different houses."  
"Really?" Kansas picked up a miniature gladiator carved from fake marble. "Why?"

"Our jobs are different and the commute is almost impossible if we share. Besides, he keeps having his stupid friends come visit."

"Oh," Kansas didn't notice his lapse of politeness. She seemed more concerned with picking out a trinket. "Hold up, I think my dad is calling."

Romano stepped a respectful few feet back while the younger personification fished out an old red flip phone.

"Hey Papa." What was America going to do when he realized that Romano knew about his children? It wasn't like he could hide away and pretend it had never happened. He probably knew more about American now than any other personification out there. The secrets America had never given any indication as to their existence. Secrets he had bombed to keep hidden. Secrets worth killing for. Would he react badly or would it be amicable. Privately Romano couldn't see America being relaxed about anything.

"Great!" Kansas slipped her phone back into her pocket and set the little gladiator on the shelf. "Romano."

"Yes?" He was looking out the small window, almost pensive in expression and a little wary.

"My dad wants to meet me at his little place but I don't know where it is. Could you do me a last favor and give me directions?"

"Oh course," Romano took a breath as if to steel himself, "I'll even take you there."

Kansas, who had spent the better part of five hours with the not-so-strange Italian, beamed. None of her other siblings had told stories about meeting cool people who were willing to them around for an entire day. Usually it was the other way around which was why New York had started dating that tiny European nation.

#$#$#$#$

America and Prussia had wanted to spend the evening with Kansas. His most isolated daughter who didn't handle crowds well and would have liked to stay in her own state, and he loved her all the same. Of all his children he saw Kansas least. He didn't mind it because he could always know what alright and when she wasn't the state did not hesitate to call him.

"She's not usually this late." Prussia was playing the long aged game of Flappy Bird that he should have deleted off his phone ages ago. "What did she say?"

"Just that she was going to be coming," America yawned, sinking further into his bombers jacket. "How is Germany?"

"He went off with Italy to go drinking at Feli's favorite bar." Prussia snickered to himself, "Francis and Antonio are off on dates too."

"It's nice," warm Mediterranean heat washed over him, soothing the aches of his political upheaval. "An evening to ourselves."

"Yes," Prussia's lean, pale hand closed over his and he sighed, "Oh look….there…oh shit." America was standing before Prussia even saw him move. Hand reaching for his ever present weapons.

Southern Italy, scowling faintly and with a wariness that America had only ever seen a few times before, stood right next to his daughter. Kansas, tanned and cheerful, waved from beside the other personification.  
"Hey dad!"

"Kansas?" Could a nations heart stop from shock and the sudden spring of terror? America didn't know but was figuring it out. Sulking off to the side, obviously anticipating an attack, Romano shrugged as Kansas continued.

"Dad, this is Romano Vargas. He's been showing me around all day. I got lost and he was nice enough to help."

"Oh?" Was he able to speak? How was the world still turning because as much as he remembered was that the entire universe had ground to a halt. "Really?"

"Yep," She bounced across the small plaza, quiet and shaded to wrap sturdy arms around his waist, "How was the meeting?"

"Yes," Southern Italy spoke for the first time, heavily accented words driving the reality deeper and deeper into America's chest, "How did the meeting go America?"

Prussia hadn't moved; his face slightly ashen while Kansas jerked around.

"Um…what?"

"Well," Romano sauntered over, hands stuffed into his pockets, "America?"  
"It was fine." Kansas stared between them, uncomprehending and a little frightened. "Same as usual."

"Really?"

"Papa?" His daughter was slowly coming to the understanding as to what had happened, "Papa?" Her desperate words jolted America from his molasses slow mindset.

"Tell me Romano," He growled, a hand on the holster of his weapon, "Do you make it a habit of finding random people to show around the city?"

"No," Prussia had moved to stand beside Kansas, a hand on her shoulder. Both of them waiting for the outcome of the showdown, "I like tourists, they are important to me" A pair of amber eyes narrowed his direction, "I did not know that she was a state at first but I felt her power."

"Power?" Distraught and confused, Kansas turned rapidly between the men, "What's going on? Someone explain."

"Kansas," America nodded the direction of the older nation, "Meet Southern Italy, a personification like us."

"Oh shit." He didn't bother correcting her language, "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh."

"Kansas," Prussia hugged her from behind, pulling her lean figure against his, "Calm down, panicking in not going to help."

"America," Romano only watched with an apathetic gaze as the state shook, "I promise on the land that I will never harm any of your children."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you."

"I didn't expect you to." America glowered at the calm nation. "But I want you to know so you don't decide to bomb me to hell…again."

"Hmph," Prussia snorted, "I'll believe it when I see it."

The unsettlingly firm gaze settled on Prussia.

"You have my word on my land and my people."

A dragon roared beneath America's chest, yearning to break free and destroy any and all who would threaten what was his. Beastly rage swept through system, flooding his veins with heat and the promise of violence.

"We'll see." Kansas shivered at his growl, pressing further into Prussia's chest and gaping. It was a Mexican standoff.

"Papa," Kansas , ever dependable Kansas, a strong as her land and tenacious as her citizens, piped up, "He's telling the truth." Romano's gaze flicked to her for a moment before landing on Prussia.

Kansas could sort the truth from lies as easily as she planted seeds. America knew not to question her ability.

"I think we should invite him over to dinner," Prussia said, far too mild for the confrontation, "We could enjoy that."

"That's not a bad idea," Kansas abandoned thoughts of diplomacy, "We can go to that little place you like to much Papa."

"Fine," America crushed his rage and blew out a heavy breath. "Italy?"

"I don't mind." Romano snorted, obviously straining to release his usual string of curse words except that he was in the company of a lady and wouldn't. America appreciated that. "Where did you have in mind?"

#$#$#$


End file.
